Page 45
Story: Beak Performance
The idea still baffled me.
I met his eyes and a wave of love and affection swept through me and into every corner of my being. Its intensity made my heart flutter like a frantic bird.
Mine.
“Welcome to the family, son.” Arne’s father had joined his wife, extending a large hand to me.
“Thank you,” I squeaked, taking the offered hand and shaking it.
Arne invited me to his side, taking my hand as soon as I sat next to him.
Okay, that’s settled, then.
“We’re sorry to barge in like this,” Ida said, giving me an apologetic shrug. “We wanted to wait for tomorrow, but we were just too excited to see you two. I hope we didn’t wake you up.”
My cheeks heated.
“It’s okay, uh…”
Arne said something in Danish, and both his parents chuckled good-naturedly.
“We’ll be leaving soon. We will see you tomorrow, Max? Will you be joining us for lunch?”
“I forgot to tell Max,” Arne explained, rubbing circles on my knuckles. “We haven’t talked about our plans.” His hopeful smile confused me. Did he want me to come or stay away?
“I don’t have plans yet.” All the plans I have involved Arne anyway. “Lunch with you sounds good.”
“I can show you the town where I grew up, Yndling. How about it?”
He short-circuited my brain.
Yndling?! He calls me his favourite in front of his parents?
“Yeah,” I told him, “if you want me to.”
“Rhetorical question.” Aksel Bendixen smirked over at us, looking so much like his son it was like looking into the future.
Looks good.
Arne squeezed my hand, giving me the cutest smile ever. For a moment, his feelings overwhelmed me. I hovered between this form and the raven, wanting to transform and fly away. Be free of all worldly sins.
But then Arne laced our fingers together. He brought them up to his mouth, kissing them. And I knew I would follow this man anywhere. Even to lunch with his parents.
“We should be on our way, Aksel,” his mother breathed. “We need to pick up a few things at the shop.” When I looked around, she gave us a warm smile. The corners of her eyes crinkled like Arne’s did when he smiled.
The Viking gave my hand a little squeeze and got up to hug his parents goodbye.
“We’ll see you tomorrow, Max.” His father shook hands with me.
Twenty-five
Arne
It had still been dark when we arrived the night before. Seeing Max take the house in for the first time once my parents had left, awe on his ethereal face, was a highlight of my year.
Before they retired, my mother had worked as the CEO of Dwarfoods, one of Denmark’s largest food suppliers. My dad still volunteered for the rescue team he had led for most of his working life. They had bought this house decades ago and had it restored a few years back. It was gorgeous. I had very vague plans to move here eventually, or at least spend a chunk of my time here.
I got lost in my daydreams of Max and me having coffee here, both with greying hair and still as gone for the other as we were now.
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